


A Summary of Recent Discoveries from the Shatt al-Arab Library

by R Donald James (Callmesalticidae)



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Ancient History, Gen, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmesalticidae/pseuds/R%20Donald%20James
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I doubt that there was a single scholar in our field that did not rejoice when we understood the true contents of the Shatt al-Arab Library... </p><p>As we began to decipher the script the Shatt al-Arab Library seemed to be an example of some sort of curious forgery, purporting to be the records of a city thought by any reputable scholar to be pure myth. </p><p>But as we continued to translate it became apparent that there was more than fantasy to this myth, and there were again glad tidings to be had in our field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Summary of Recent Discoveries from the Shatt al-Arab Library

I doubt that there was a single scholar in our field that did not rejoice when we understood the true contents of the Shatt al-Arab Library. At first they were welcomed more as a linguistic curiosity than anything else- the tablets were clearly some dialect of Sumerian, but a dialect heretofore unknown to modern scholarship. At that time they were most remarkable for being the first known form of shorthand, predating Greek brachygraphy by several millennia. As we began to decipher the script the Shatt al-Arab Library seemed to be an example of some sort of curious forgery, purporting to be the records of a city thought by any reputable scholar to be pure myth. But as we continued to translate it became apparent that there was more than fantasy to this myth, and there were again glad tidings to be had in our field. 

The tablets do not refer to their city as anything but “our city” or “the Pillars,” the latter reference being the first clue to its mythic links that we had. The earliest extant commentaries that we possess on the city were translated and expounded upon in the Middle Ages by Arab scholars, who called the city Irem of the Pillars in what seemed to be a groundless conflation of the one myth with another from the Quran. This oft-repeated reference to the city as “the Pillars,” however, gives us reason to rethink our conclusions.

The Shatt al-Arab Library also sheds light on another name which we have heretofore known scarcely anything about. In Babylon we have the first reports of the city, described as being long-lost even in times of antiquity. According to historians the Babylonian reports were passed through many hands and many languages until their translation into Arabic, and did not seem to contain the city’s name, either from the beginning or after a damnation memoriae-like redaction. The end of the story, we thought, but it is now becoming apparent that the Dilmun civilization, until now as invisible to archaeologists as the Hittites once had been, is far older than we had dared to imagine.

We are proud to announce that, for the first time, we are getting a glimpse not only of this city but also, if we might be so bold, the origins of civilization itself. The more that we translate, the more that we learn. The more that we learn, the more that we suspect Irem to truly be, as its people evidently believed, the first city.

For your consideration, we present to you the highlights of our discoveries thus far.

**An Early History of Irem: Myth and Extrapolated Reality**

Most curiously, the Dilmun-Irem Culture refers to its city as the birthplace of human civilization but not of humankind itself. In the beginning, the Shatt al-Arab Library states, mankind was formed in “the place where the sun sets” by gods left unspecified in the text. In time there were many people and a king, Lulu (“Mankind”), was given unto them. Again contrary to what we might expect, the DIC described itself as descending not from the king but from an adulterous union of his wife and a god referred to by no name but several epithets: Sha naqba imuru (“He who Sees the Unknown” or “He who Saw the Deep”), Shutur eli sharri (“Surpassing All Other Kings”), and Adadda sarrum samu (“Grandfather King who Lacks/Thirsts”). The reader will note the first two as having been applied to Gilgamesh in other contexts.

The product of this union was a boy-child called Qayin, who was taken away and taught at the feet of the Mushussu, other children of Adadda who continue to figure prominently in the DIC’s mythic history. Qayin married one of his half-sisters, who bore him a son. With the wisdom and the might of the Mushussu behind him Qayin built a kingdom of his own, which was apparently centered in the eastern part of the Arabian Peninsula. In order to govern it effectively he built a city “after the pattern of the other [children]” and named it after his son, whose name we wouldn’t know except for this reference.

In time Qayin died and control passed to his son Dilmun/Irem, who passed it to one of his own sons and so on. At some point authority was divided between “twelve princes,” who appear to have been representative of various factions of potential heirs during a power struggle only a few generations after Qayin. From Dilmun/Irem on, the descendants of Qayin enjoyed a close relationship with the Mushussu, who seem at times to be either gods in their own right or “merely” the powerful children of one or more gods. Over the course of generations there was a gradual withdrawal of the Mushussu from normal temporal affairs.

After they finally withdrew completely from the world of men all communication with them was dependent on a group of middlemen, humans not of Dilmun/Irem’s bloodline and yet favored of the Mushussu for reasons of personal merit. They lived alongside the Mushussu as attendants and were responsible for going out to Dilmun-Irem to request its ruler’s presence in the court of the Mushussu. They would also come forth to inspect the city and make reports back to their masters, and at these times they could be asked to petition the Mushussu for an audience on behalf of the rulers.

Carefully analyzing what we have been given, we see an attempt to separate the people of Dilmun-Irem from and then reunify them to another, unknown culture (perhaps the rest of humankind in general), with these attempts probably happening at separate times. They are descended from their patron god, Adadda, but in so doing they are no longer descended from the “first among kings,” who later records explain is the sole source of the right to rule. Without his blood they are usurpers only, and so it seems that later on the story was amended so that Qayin married into this bloodline. That it was not Qayin but his son in whose veins flowed the blood of both their god and the first among kings may explain why Dilmun-Irem bears his name.

It is probable that Qayin himself is more myth than fact and that Dilmun/Irem is the true founder of the DIC. Perhaps in yet older stories it was he that was the son of Adadda, until such time that it was recognized that he needed also to be a descendant of King Lulu and so the character of Qayin was devised. We might safely assume that the later organization of the twelve princes as related to us reflects their actual origin.

The gradual withdrawal of the Mushussu is likely an attempt at explanation the present absence of these beings from day-to-day affairs when, according to earlier myths, they were heavily engaged in the operations of Dilmun-Irem and many lived in the city itself. These early stories go so far as to portray the Mushussu in the most mundane light imaginable: one legend makes casual reference to two of the Mushussu working in the fields alongside humans.

The DIC probably originated from the same mountains later held to be inhabited by the Mushussu. Despite their inhabitance of the lowlands a kinship with the mountain people seems to be remembered in the latter's role as intermediaries. Whatever they thought of themselves, the mountain people were regarded by the DIC as priests. It is easy to imagine the rulers of Dilmun-Irem making regular pilgrimage to the mountains and paying homage to Mushussu idols and to their caretakers. Nevertheless, in order to retain power against them it was made clear that their status among the Mushussu was due to reasons other than bloodline. They were descendants of Qayin but not of Dilmun/Irem, and for that reason were unfit to rule under the god which not only humans but also the Mushussu served.

**Divine Birthright in the Dilmun-Irem Culture**

In the mythology of the Dilmun-Irem Culture there are a number of deities referenced. Adadda sarum samu is the chief of them all and their patriarch. His true name is never revealed (perhaps even forgotten by the period that the Shatt al-Arab Library dates from) but only ever talked around in a manner reminiscent of the sacred name of YHWH. The whole people of the DIC descend from Adadda, which is taken to be the distinguishing feature between them and the rest of humankind.

The DIC considered themselves to bear a divine heritage, which gives them not only the right to rule over “the sons of Lulu and Azalulu” but the _responsibility_  to rule and mediate between them and the gods. In this respect they appear to be a type of the “kingdom of priests” described later in the Book of Exodus. While there were, so to speak, priests that were more priestly than the rest, the whole people were responsible for maintaining the relationship that kept the world in balance. Qayin had assumed certain obligations in accepting the air of the Mushussu and while his covenant gave him and his descendants great power it also made them responsible for the actions of their lesser brethren and all of mankind in a position that they had not held before.

Before the covenant which was made with Qayin, humans were apparently regarded as like unto vermin by the Mushussu and would neither be hunted down nor given mercy where their mere presence was inconvenient. Now, however, they were given rights for the sake of Qayin, who, it is said, “grieved for the slaughter of his people and sorrowed for the sake of their lamentations.” From the time of the covenant with the Mushussu humans were given various liberties and protections, but were humankind ever to break their end of the deal- a deal which Qayin made for them without their knowledge or consent- then the Mushussu would take it upon themselves to punish the species as far as they deemed necessary. Even the whole species might be exterminated if the offense were great enough.

Special attention was given to “the Twelve Who Are Descended [from Dilmun/Irem],” who were regarded as the most favored of the most favored. Just as the DIC as a whole was responsible for mediating between mankind and the gods, the Twelve were responsible for mediating between the rest of the DIC and the gods.

 **The** **Mushussu**  

Save for Adadda sarum samu, the DIC pantheon universally belonged to the ranks of the Mushussu (“red/splendorous snakes”). The Mushussu were depicted in DIC art as crocodile-esque beings that generally moved on all fours but were apparently able to handle objects with their forelegs, as shown by several carvings in the Shatt al-Arab Library and implied by references within the texts that describe them as performing various activities that could only be done with hands. They were far older than humankind by a long way: one of the tablets says that they were created by Adadda one hundred thousand _sars_ before the birth of Qayin. If each _sar_  was equal to three thousand years, as it was in the Babylonian system, then this would put the timeline of DIC mythology on a scale comparable to Hinduism.

The deity most immediately relevant to Dilmun-Irem was curiously named. Literally translated her name was “of the Pillars,” but in such a context that it implied noble position, for which reason we translate it in full as “The Lady of the Pillars” or “The Lady of our city.” Among the Mushussu she appears to have fulfilled a kind of governing role over Dilmun-Irem specifically, almost another layer in the lengthy series of intermediaries that appears to be the theme of the DIC. Some Mushussu served under her in various roles. Others, equal or superior to her, dealt with the city from time to time as required by their positions but only insofar as the affairs of Dilmun-Irem were relevant to their purviews. Any time that they were dealt with, the Lady was brought into the matter in order that she might also petition for the sake of Dilmun-Irem.

Her husband was Gusilim, who interceded in disputes between cities (including Dilmun-Irem) and other border conflicts. While apparently of greater influence within the society of the Mushussu he had much less to do with Dilmun-Irem than his wife. At those times that he did intercede in the affairs of men he was  _incredibly_ fair-minded, to the point that it could be inconvenient. The Lady, on the other hand, could be counted on to favor Dilmun-Irem in almost any circumstances, even to her own detriment.

Vying with The Lady for importance was Ti-amtum, “She who Bore Them All.” While The Lady is the patron goddess most immediately relevant to Dilmun-Irem, owing to her special interest in the city, Ti-amtum is her superior. In what may be a parallel to the theological mechanics of the DIC, Ti-amtum appears to mediate, when it is necessary, between the rest of the gods and Adadda. She is given a luminal, genderfluid status by being, as well, She who Bore Herself. In this aspect she is regarded as moving from some manner of existence and into the phenomenal world by being both mother and father to herself. It is at these points, apparently considered to exist in multiplicity, that she serves as mediator for the Mushussu and Adadda, who is at various times her father and/or consort.

Allat-gizil (“Allat of the beneficent tree”) was one of two guards that protected the gate that led to Adadda’s idol (specifically mentioned as his image rather than the deity in person, which even the Mushussu were at times afraid to behold), doing so with Namdumuzid (“loyal [adopted] child”). She was held to have some influence over medicine despite being said to have little proficiency in healing herself. Rather, she was supplicated in order that she would give permission to other deities when healing was requested. Namdumuzid’s sex is unknown; the figure is almost only referred to according to the formula “Allat-gizil and Namdumuzid,” and the sole exception states that Namdumuzid is the other deity’s _dam_  (“spouse”), which can refer to either sex with equal ease.

Other Mushussu mentioned include Nirah, who served as minister to Gusilim, and Basmu, “the Venomous Snake,” notable inasmuch as he is never described in any manner but simply said to be present or referred to at various points in the Shatt al-Arab Library. Even that he is male is an assumption. In addition to their mountain homes the Mushussu were said to have palaces in the sea that surrounded the world.

**Outside of the DIC Pantheon**

Other equally or more powerful beings exist and are referred to as ildli (something like “[the] various/several [other] gods”), and they were the beings actually responsible for the creation of humankind as described above. Nevertheless the DIC did not pay them homage, because Adadda sarrum samu had chosen them to be his adopted children and elevated them from the position of slaves (which corresponds to the general feeling of humankind’s role in other Mesopotamian mythology, showing us how old this idea was and possibly its origin). Some of the ildli possibly correspond to more generally-accepted Mesopotamian deities but they are only described a little bit. Other ildli do not have such analogues (at least based on the limited information that we have been given in the Shatt al-Arab Library).

It is among these that we have a number that are described as “azen, halapatu, niganu” (“violence/violent/destructive, to be destroyed/forsaken/forbidden from worship, that which is forbidden [because of disease]”). If these gods truly have no counterpart in common Mesopotamian mythology then it may indicate a general abhorrence of these deities (we can only speculate as to the reasons) and eventually a successful erasure of them from the general consciousness, though the Babylonian reports still make reference to the AHN demon Kith tar lu, or the Sleeper on the Rocks, from whom they similarly distance themselves and make clear that they do not regard as a god. The AHN group presents interesting possibilities about an entirely separate, possibly more ancient, pantheon of gods of which we had not even known of until the present.

Ti’amtum was said to have a son named Marutuk, who was described as rebellious and an outcast and appears to be a version of Marduk. He is not properly one of the ildli but is said to be worshiped by other cities, and his cult, like that of the ildli, is banned in Dilmun-Irem. Though described only a little, he shares some characteristics with the AHN demon Kith tar lu, which similarities were stamped out by the time that later Mesopotamian mythology enters the record. Whether these are original characteristics of Marduk or peculiar to the DIC’s conception of him cannot be known at this time.

In an alternate creation myth given on another tablet, the origin of mankind is not elaborated on and it is said that the ildli brought human servants with them from their homeland when they first settled in “the place where the sun sets,” rather than creating them on the spot. This legend omits any reference to Qayin’s wife, which may mean that it is the older of the two.

**Government and Nobility**

The ruling body in Dilmun-Irem was the Twelve who Are Descended [from Dilmun/Irem]. They were “great men,” defined by their descent from the city’s namesake. They deliberated and voted on actions to take like a miniature Senate. Many matters never went as high as to reach the Twelve, but when such things did they could spend weeks fighting over which course to take. Or minutes, depending on how quickly one side or the other drew the undecided members to its way of thinking.

The most senior among them was called the Chief Seat, and in theory he was their leader. In practice, however, it would seem that he would have had very little power indeed. His vote had all power and overrode the rest of the Twelve when it could be cast, but in most meetings of the Twelve he was restricted to an advisory position. He was only permitted to cast his vote in order to break a deadlock in the decision-making process after the Twelve had cast their own votes and no side had claimed a majority over the others. With eleven votes being cast normally, ties would not have come up often in the normal process of things. It was in the interest of the Chief Seat to engender as many factions as possible within the Twelve in order that he might be given the opportunity to exercise control more frequently. It was equally in the interests of the Twelve to compromise as often as they could, and it seems that the strength of the Twelve over the Chief Seat depended on how solidly he had built support behind himself before ascending to his position and whether or not they could swallow their pride more deeply than the Chief Seat could fire it up.

While the reason for the limit on the Chief Seat’s power is unknown, it came into play in a big way when disaster struck and the rest of the Twelve turned on him. The Chief Seat was responsible for the prosperity of Dilmun-Irem, and he was just as responsible for its crises. Moreover, in dealing with Adadda sarrum samu he served when necessary as proxy for the rest of the Twelve, who in turn did so for the great men, who mediated for the rest of Dilmun-Irem, who mediated on behalf of all mankind. Via this process it was the Chief Seat who stood alone before Adadda and the Mushussu when one and one alone had to do so, and when the sins of the race hung over the city like the sword of Damocles it was the Chief Seat whose neck took the blow. By refusing him a vote except in the case of a tie, it would be possible for a vote to sacrifice the Chief Seat to be made unanimously.

The manner of his sacrifice is unclear but ultimately involved his being impaled by a stake (the process as described recalls Vlad the Impaler, among others). After his death he would be dragged through the city and left outside the city to be eaten by scavengers. The same punishment was inflicted upon blasphemers, incidentally, perhaps showing a belief that both were guilty (whether personally or by proxy) of violating the covenant made by Qayin.

The other significant power group in the city was the almarratu (“widows,” specifically of noble prestige). These were the former wives of great men of Dilmun-Irem, and their status was measured in how many times over they were former wives. While it isn’t clear how it played out in practice (though additional votes are a possibility) their influence was based on how many husbands they had survived.

The almarratu essentially controlled the matter of succession in Dilmun-Irem. They decided who a great man would marry (if they permitted him to marry at all) which obviously affected one’s progression into the Twelve. Though the Chief Seat nominated great men to fill empty places in the Twelve, and the Twelve voted to accept or reject the nomination, one had to be married in order to accept the position (a technicality which in at least one case led to a successful nomination before the man chosen for the job was given to marriage).

The almarratu also played a role in the decision-making process. The Twelve Who Are Descended could propose actions to take, but it was required that the almarratu give their approval before the Twelve worked out the details (and tried to stretch their initial proposal as far as it would go without actually breaking the letter of it, one would imagine). The sole exception was in voting to sacrifice the Chief Seat, which decision was as entirely out of the hands of the almarratu as it was the Chief Seat’s.

While no mention is made of polygyny, the Shatt al-Arab Library makes it clear that polyandry was accepted and even common among the descendants of Dilmun/Irem (and technically legal but apparently socially unacceptable for the common people). About a third of the women of the upper class were never given an opportunity to marry and were left with a choice between remaining unmarried and giving up their current position to marry a common man. Both were damaging to her social influence in different ways. Meanwhile, those that married great men were able to wield much influence through their husbands. A divorce could be issued by either party with only the consent of the almarratu, which was a final check on their husbands.

The restrictive marriage practices of the great men, designed to “prolong the memory of Dilmun/Irem” and “save his blood/people,” may have had long-term consequences. There are references in several tablets to unspecified “demons of family” that may have had to do with proverbial sayings, beings analogous to familial gods, a number of unfortunate incidents in a family’s history that were taken to have a common (supernatural) cause, or genetic disorders. If true, this may have been the ultimate cause of Dilmun-Irem’s collapse. Whatever their actual nature, they were regarded in most cases to be, essentially, punishments levied on them as proxies for their ancestors’ misdeeds.

Standing apart from the normal social order were the igabbu, one of the most complicated words in the DIC. It was a compound word whose constituent parts together meant “[our] father’s eyes,” but both parts had additional layers of meaning. The word used for “father” could also mean “official” or “witness” and carried a connotation of great age. The word for “eyes” specifically referred to the carved eyes of a statue. Together it all but points to a religious rather than state function, apparently referring to the eyes of an Adadda idol.

Our Father’s Eyes were responsible for investigating treason against Dilmun-Irem, which included acts of blasphemy (or blasphemy included acts of treasons; the exact nature of the relationship in the DIC is unclear). They appeared to operate with a minimum of supervision and despite nominally answering to the Chief Seat in his role as high priest and mediator for Dilmun-Irem, the histories thus far translated show that it was not uncommon for Our Father’s Eyes to investigate even him. The major check on their power seemed to be that, while they could investigate and were ultimately responsible for delivering punishment, they were not permitted to actually deliver punishment except on the authority- and thus with the blessing- of the Chief Seat. Those cases where they found the Chief Seat guilty were always turned over to the Twelve.

Based on remarks from one of the tablets, it appears that at least some of Our Father’s Eyes were believed to be apathetic about crimes which fell outside of their purview.

Both the Twelve and Our Father’s Eyes are regularly described with language commonly ascribed to divine beings or spirits of at least moderate influence through the use of the “digir” determinative, which similarly precedes references to Adadda, the Mushussu, and the other gods. In our writing system today the same effect might be had by using capitalized pronouns (He, His, Him; They, Theirs, Them).

 **Lived** **Religion**

The spiritual center of Dilmun-Irem was a mud brick ziggurat that served as a temple to Adadda sarum samu. The temple was both a mountain and an altar. It was built in reflection of the cosmic mountains where the gods lay buried or where the Mushussu lived (there appears to be some conflation of the two, giving the sense that the Mushussu are both dead and alive, and perhaps this living death was seen as the reason for their seclusion from the world).

The temple was staffed by a variety of priests. There were asipu and masmasu. The former were in charge of the purification of individuals (necessary before performing any rituals at the temple). The latter were in charge of what could be thought of as purification of the temple itself but more accurately was a kind of _un_ -purification. It was believed that unless it were regularly “made diminished” just as mortals were required to be purified and exalted from their own base standing, then even the holiest man would “come under the curse and condemnation of demons several” and sicken and die.

Besides these other kinds of priests were the zammeru (“singer, male singers that specialized in lamentations in order to bring the people to humility and the Mushussu to mercifulness); naru, female singers whose songs were meant to draw the attention and stoke the emotions of the Mushussu (they were always present when the zammeru sang but could themselves perform without their male counterparts); suzigu (“penitents”), who practiced self-mutilation in order to make atonement for minor breaches of the covenant that didn’t warrant the Chief Seat’s sacrifice; and kurkudu (“watchers” or “all-observing”), who acted as doorkeepers and watchmen for the temple (Allat-gizil and Namdumuzid were likely understood to be divine kurkudu).

At the end of the New Year festival, which lasted twelve days and took place in the Spring, the Chief Seat was symbolically married to the Lady of Dilmun-Irem. The most senior of the almarratu served as proxy for the Lady. In order to reinforce that the marriage was to the Lady and not to the Widow, if the two of them had actually been spouses then they would need to divorce before the ritual could be performed. As the Chief Seat was so often a proxy for the people of Dilmun-Irem this hierogamy represented the union of the Lady with all mankind, ensuring her personal dedication to its welfare.

There was very little use of idols, and the writings are careful in every case to make clear that the idol is representative of, and not identical to, the being depicted. “Lest our children become betrayers” is the reason given for this care every time that it comes up. The idols, rather, were proxies for the Adadda and the Mushussu. Incense and other offerings were placed before them in order to continue to show one’s dedication to them even in their absence. Drawn symbols were more common proxies, especially in household shrines, and the Shatt al-Arab Library only tells of idols being used as proxies for Adadda, the Lady, and (most rarely of all) Ti-amtum.

The other place of major spiritual importance was the unupukiri (“sacred orchard,” specifically one that is irrigated). It was near one end of the city. This positioning placed it upriver along the Idlurug, an unidentified river that flowed through Dilmun-Irem. The most important trees (indeed, the only ones specifically mentioned, although other species are said to have been present) were pomegranates. Also called kiskanu (“holy tree”), the pomegranate symbolized the prosperity which came to Dilmun-Irem and all mankind as a result of the covenant that had been made with Adadda. This is probably ancestral or at least strongly related to the “tree of life” imagery that is so strong in ancient cultures.

The Chief Seat dwelt in the unupukuri in a tent with an unknown number of rooms. The tent was intended to keep the Chief Seat in constant remembrance of the nomadic lifestyle that had been held by Qayin before the city was built. Rather than depend on stakes, it was tied down at the bases of nearby pomegranate trees. One of the texts explains that this was meant to reinforce the importance of the covenant in the Chief Seat’s mind. Were it broken, thus would cease the prosperity of the city. In symbolic terms the pomegranate trees would die. This would in turn leave the tent without support and cause its collapse.

In his role as resident (and caretaker) of the unupukuri, the Chief Seat was referred to as En nukirik (either “[the] master gardener” or “gardener ruler”). It was from this position that had religious influence, and his most frequent duty was the daily burning of incense outside the door of his tent, followed by drawing in the dirt certain symbols not described in the Shatt al-Arab texts. Were it necessary that an inquiry be made of Adadda, incense would be burned at the same time before his idol. After this was done bones would be cast by certain priests and analyzed by others. These were called suzigu and baru (“askers” and “observers”) and it does not appear that they ever rotated duties. Their divination was made to determine the will of Adadda- not necessarily what was definitely going to happen but what he intended to happen. This was an important distinction between Adadda, though mighty, was not omnipotent, and this was judged to be the reason for divinations that failed to correspond to subsequent events.

Certain families were recorded as having particular Mushussu attached to them, most often because of an ancestor of theirs who had attracted its attention. These families passed down particular prayers, unique to their Mushussu, that were said to be necessary to draw its attention and prove that they were of the correct bloodline (and, according to some of the prayers recorded, remind the Mushussu of the obligation that it had assumed on itself).

 **Daily** **Life**

Dilmun-Irem was the center of life for the DIC. The few satellite towns that may have surrounded the city would have done nothing to deemphasize its importance.

As was often the case in antiquity, beer was almost like liquid bread or a kind of thin porridge than a true drink. It was rich in nutrients and generally purer than water, and probably consumed on a daily basis (as was the case elsewhere in Mesopotamia). Consequently, the production of beer was a respected, but restricted, occupation. Early in the city’s history the right to brew beer was given exclusively to women. It appears that shortly thereafter those who were in the business managed to make this a  _hereditary_ right. From then on the brewers of beer became an influential faction within the city, at times more powerful than any other faction among the common people (few in the upper class were part of it in the beginning, and the requirement of blood descent caused their number to gradually dwindle).

Beer was sacred in Dilmun-Irem. It was said that beer was a gift from Adadda sarum samu. Once, before Dilmun-Irem was founded, Qayin had been hunting for many days without finding game. With he and his family on the edge of death, he prayed to Adadda. One of the Mushussu then appeared and granted them daily amounts of beer until they found game.

Four other substances came next in importance: honey, butter, oil, and wine. Each of these was associated with a slightly-different form of pottery. Honey was symbolic of the power and immortal lives of the Mushussu because of its healing and preservative properties. The DIC did not cultivate bees. Instead they acquired it through trade and from wild bees (from whom they would also harvest pollen, which was eaten and called bee’s bread).

Butter came exclusively from goats (cattle do not appear to have been used by the DIC). It was made by filling a goat skin halfway with milk and inflating it with air. The skin would then be hung on a tripod and rocked back and forth until the butter was formed. It was a staple food that could be eaten alone or mixed with other foods like beer. Spices were frequently added as flavoring.

The particular kind of oil used most frequently by the DIC was grape seed oil. While some of it was produced natively from grape vines in the unupukuri, this was restricted for consumption by the Twelve, priests, and a few of the almarratu. Most grape seed oil was imported from elsewhere. Foreign grape seed oil could not be consumed by the Twelve or by priests. The next most important oil was olive oil.

The most highly-favored wine was that of the pomegranate, of course, though grape wine came in as a close second and was enjoyed by those to whom pomegranate wine was unavailable. It was used often in religious rites, especially during the symbolic marriage of the Lady and the Chief Seat. This was the only time that the Chief Seat was permitted to drink wine of any kind.

The DIC people loved music. Romantic songs especially, which comprise the bulk of the songs that have been recorded. Music was called the “voice of Adadda.” It was stated in one legend that it was for the sake of our music that we found favor with Adadda. From time to time he would fall victim to fits of murderous rage or hunger (it is unclear) and it was the responsibility of the zammeru and naru to make the music that would calm him. The lyre and the pipe are the instruments most-commonly referenced in the tablets, almost to the exclusion of all other instruments.

While the DIC used the lunisolar calendar year and the 3,600 year-long _sar_ , as was standard in Mesopotamia, it also used another large time unit based on the transits of Venus. These occurred when the planet moved directly across the Sun (from the perspective of astronomers on Earth, of course). A pair of transits would happen within eight years of each other and then the cycle, two hundred and forty-three years long, began again. The DIC seemed to regard each transit in the cycle as either “superior” or “inferior,” and believed that this system of marking great periods of time by Venus was given to them by the Mushussu. It was used for both civil and religious purposes.

While no distinctly DIC artifacts have yet been located outside of the Shatt al-Arab Library, according to their records Dilmun-Irem had, by the height of its power, grown wealthy on trade. It was a source of copper itself and a trading post in general. Babylonian records support this description and imply that, besides Mesopotamia, it also traded with the Indus Valley Civilization. The first maps of the world (or what was then thought to be the world) were drawn by the DIC, which was also known for its cartographers.

Drugs of all varieties were used extensively in the DIC. Cannabis, referred to alternately as “the lily of the white lake” or as “lion’s fat” (the latter growing more common over time), was used to relieve bladder trouble, bronchitis, insomnia, and rheumatism. Opium poppy and its product carried two main names throughout the history of the DIC: hul gil (“joy plant”), referring to the plant, and itudbur (“moonglow” or “moonlight”), referring specifically to the drug, which was collected in the morning in keeping with later Assyrian practice. It was used exclusively for pain relief (and less medicinal practices) rather than for execution. Sponges soaked in opium were in particular used as an aid for surgery, and one tablet advises the use of opium for calming distressed children.

Whatever the side effects of such casual usage were, the DIC benefited from or weathered them. Where we begin to see the signs of rot in the DIC they come not from these or any other drug used throughout the DIC’s history but one that, while referenced to in the past, for all practical purposes is only introduced late in the accounts. Called emessisi (“yellow leaf”), what makes it most curious is that we quite frankly have no idea what it is, as it doesn’t seem to correspond to any Old World plant or drug. What we do know is that while cannabis, opium, and others received metaphorical names it appears that emessisi was literal (or else its visual depictions were also metaphorical), and that it came from somewhere in Central Asia.

While it was the opinion of the Babylonians that emesissi-chewing was the direct cause of the DIC’s downfall, the DIC itself regarded the drug’s usage as merely a symptom of the times and felt that their society had begun to crumble a little earlier. As emesissi had always been known of by the DIC, it seems more likely that the latter scenario is correct and social change merely opened the gates to something that had always been there.

**City Organization**

As stated earlier there were two hearts of the city: the temple and the sacred orchard. Both of these were connected by the river Idlurug, which ran along the south side of the temple and through the sacred orchard. As was befitting such an important part of the city, it bore other names as well. It was associated with both life and death and, in this aspect, cyclical time. It brought life to the city and it took death away.

Its other primary name was Kaskadda (“way/road/journey of the corpses”). The majority of Dilmun-Irem’s citizens were disposed of after death by setting them on a simple raft and letting the river take them away. Little importance was attached to the bodies of the dead in these cases, although there did seem to be some concept of a continued relationship between one’s soul and one’s bodily remains. Offerings to the Mushussu, who were believed to care for the dead who had caught their fancy, were placed with the dead before sending them on their way and these were supplemented at various times of the year with additional offerings. These were made with the intention of currying favor with the Mushussu on behalf of the dead, almost like a divine bribe. These practices lent the river a third name, Kianag (“place of libations to the dead”), which was sometimes used to refer to the temple that sat alongside it. That in turn appears to have led to occasional confusion between the river and the temple and, later, the sacred mountain which the temple was symbolic of, so that in later parts of the city’s history there were some who believed that the Mushussu lived in the river.

The importance of the Idlurug to the DIC is reflected in this verse from the Enuma Elish: “For Dilmun, the land of my landy’s heart, I will create long waterways, rivers and canals, whereby water will flow to quench the thirst of all beings and bring abundance to all that lives.” More than “waterways, rivers, and canals,” the Idlurug was also the basis of a simple-but-effective sewer system that extended through much of Dilmun-Irem. These dual roles, fertilizing the land and carrying away waste, bringing life to its inhabitants and transporting the dead, led the river to be viewed as both good and evil, life and pollution.

The upper class was not sent away on the Idlurug but buried outside the walls of Dilmun-Irem. A mound was built over the burial site, ostensibly in imitation of the temple and the cosmic mountain of the Mushussu. No grave goods were taken with them except for a gold or copper death mask (it appears, but is not yet a certain fact, that only the Twelve were honored with gold). According to one tablet they were buried vertically and head-first.

Reference is frequently made to “citadels” in the center of the city, apparently so-called as metaphor for their use as strongholds against hunger and death. They were granaries administered by the Twelve for the purpose of famine relief. It appears that the entire harvest was handed over to the city’s government at first, and then allotments were given out to the farmers irrespective of how much had (or had not) been collected. Others in the employ of the government were paid from these same stores. 


End file.
